


the shallow minds are screaming (they grow louder with each hollowed heartbeat)

by olivemartini



Series: All The Lovely Ones Have Scars [15]
Category: Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Pre-Iron Man, Pre-Relationship, people are mean to Pepper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 07:42:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14848569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivemartini/pseuds/olivemartini
Summary: "We can't do this again."  He pauses right in the middle of cracking an egg and the yolk drips over his hand, spilling down over the countertop.  "I can't be that girl.""What girl?"She has thrown him so far off balance that he could not even think of a joke."The girl that people think is sleeping with her boss in order to get ahead."  For a moment his expression clears and he shakes the egg off his hand, like this is one of the times where she worries and he assures her that everything is fine and between the two of them, it ends up being alright.  Pepper cuts him off before it can start.  "The one who kept a job for months when everyone else was only able to stay a week and showed up to a gala in a dress her boss bought her so now everyone thinks there's only one reason why he would keep her around."  His expression shutters, and Pepper is just grateful that he was not going to try and wave this away.  "I've worked too hard for that to happen to me now."





	the shallow minds are screaming (they grow louder with each hollowed heartbeat)

He's magnetic.

Pepper had been trying to think of the word all night, and finally, as she's watching him cross the room from her seat at the front table, she realizes what the right description would be, what with how heads turn to follow him as he weaves his way through the tables and chairs to get to her, reaching out to brush hands against the edges of his suit jacket or grab a second of contact with his skin, the energy around him pulsating as he moves from one wave of people to the next.  It's like he's the beacon that everyone is in tune with, looking to him for their cue on when to laugh and when to smile and how loud to talk, like he is the only thing here worth looking at.   Pepper might not have noticed it any other night, but this time was different, because it was also directed at her, too.

She was his date.  He hadn't really asked her, just checked in with her a month ago to make sure she was attending the Maria Stark Fundraiser Gala, and Pepper had said yes without thinking, because obviously she had to be there in case something went wrong, to keep things moving smoothly, right?  Only instead of showing up with a clipboard and a Bluetooth to snap at assistants with, she had woken up in his guest room to find a dress hanging off the edge of her door.

"Don't mention it,"  Tony had said, when she had stomped down into the workshop with the fabric held in her hands, almost afraid that even that much contact would ruin it, unused to something that expensive.  He said it like she was about to thank him, and not like she should be completely confused as to why she might have been given a dress.  "I treat my women right."

 _I treat my women right,_ he had said, and even if she had laughed at the time, it was true- she had not had to worry about a single thing tonight, and everywhere she turned, there was Tony- Tony holding out a hand to help her up the limo, Tony shrugging off his jacket and sweeping it around her shoulders when they were walking the path through the reporters to the front door, Tony introducing her without being reminded, Tony getting her drinks without ever getting one for himself.  It wasn't a real date, and it could have been, and it hurts, to know what it would feel like if he was willing to love her.

"A drink, milady."  He goes into a mock bow and then throws himself into the chair with the same reckless abandon he does everything else, making it rock back on two legs for a moment as he twists to say good-bye to a man passing behind him.  "As per your request."

Pepper tried not to laugh, thinking it would encourage him too much, but then failed.  "Thank you, Tony."  The surrounding babble from the crowd was so loud that she had to lean into him in order to be heard.  "This is fantastic."

"Is it?"  There was a look on his face that she could not read, partially because she was trying to remind herself that he was a grown man that could ( _mostly_ ) take care of himself and didn't need her analyzing his every move, and partly because he wasn't looking at her, just squinting over at the ice sculptures lining the room like he was actually interested.  Or maybe like he was thinking of blowing them up.  Pepper couldn't tell- both of those expressions look the same.  "Glad to hear it."

 

 

 

 Here's the thing she doesn't like to admit:  even though she makes excuses, even though she has filled her mind with reasons why she and Tony were  _bad_ and  _stupid_ and  _never going to happen,_ even though sometimes she finds herself thinking that she wishes she never took the job, Pepper knows that at its core, being with Tony would just be  _easy,_ would just be  _right,_ like if they got together and managed to make it stick she would never have to walk into a room and worry about where her place would be, because in her mind, she would always know that its the one right next to him.

Not many people get that, she knows, which is why even though she is still stacking up those reasons for why not, every day she keeps being drawn back to him and the idea that never in her life will she meet someone like this, where being together would be like breathing, where they fit together like they were each one half of the same mold that had somehow found their way back to one another. 

( _Like it was meant to be,_ she thinks, when she is locked in her office and feeling dramatic.   _Like it's a fairy tale kind of story, where we crash into one another at the end._ )

It's like that tonight.  They're moving in step with each other, picking up the conversation where the other lets off, like they were on the same wave length.  The idea carries her all through dinner and through his presentation, where he thanks everyone that attended and talked about his mother, and when he finally gets to come back to her, she stands to wipe at the tears he was trying to hide and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, like that's what she was there for, like that was the person he wanted her to be.  

"You want to dance?"  He had looked amused at the kiss on the cheek, but not in a bad way, just like it was a fairly nice surprise that he didn't want to bother with putting much thought into. His hands are shaking, though, and he reaches past Pepper to grab onto what remains of her drink, throwing it back in one go.  "We should dance."

She lets him lead her onto the floor, both because she wants to and also because he just had to talk about his dead mother, which means that he really gets to call all the shots from here on out.  Pepper had been having such a good time that she didn't stop to think about how hard it was for him, but she tries to make up for it now, not protesting when he leads her to the very center of the dance floor before anyone else was there.

"You're really beautiful tonight," He says, and it is not like how he tells other girls they are beautiful.  There is none of his throw away carelessness, just them and his words and the music drifting towards them as the rest of the crowd slowly gets to their feet, his eyes searching across her face, and even though she knows that he does not feel the way she does, there is a part of her that cannot stop itself, that cannot help but hope.  "You're always beautiful."

"It's the dress," She says, and the words take real effort to force out.  Pepper had almost chickened out of wearing it because of how expensive it was, and also because of how it clung to her, even though JARVIS had assured her that it was perfectly appropriate.  Now that she's here, though, Pepper doesn't care- the fabric shimmers when she moves and the skirt swirls at her feet and for the first time in her life, she feels really, truly, pretty.  "Makes anyone look good."

"No,"  She can feel his fingers tapping on her back, because even now he cannot stay still.  "It isn't."

Pepper could not find it in herself to argue.

 

 

 

It's good until it isn't, and that happens right around the time they're almost ready to leave, when Pepper ducks into the bathroom for a much needed pause and locks herself into a stall just so she doesn't have to make eye contact with anyone at the mirror.

Which turns out to be a huge mistake.

"Did you see her?"  She isn't paying attention at first, just brushing back her hair and adjusting flaws in her dress that are not there, which is why she is so surprised when the realization sets in that the  _her_ in question is actually her, as in Pepper Potts, the one hiding in a bathroom stall because she cannot stand smiling at one more person that night.  "Hanging onto him like that?"

"I always wondered how she kept the job for so long."  Pepper peeks through the crack in the door to peer at the two women at the counter.  The one talking is tall with broad shoulders and long black hair that tumbles down her back, turned to the mirror so she can reapply lipstick.  Her friend is leaning against the sink and poking at a line of freckles on her shoulder, and Pepper vaguely recognizes her as someone who Tony might have taken home one night.  "Guess we now we know."

They laugh even though the joke wasn't any good, and Pepper backs away from the door, wondering how long they were going to be here.  "And did you see the dress?"   _Stupid, stupid, stupid, you ruin everything, you stupid, stupid girl when are you ever going to learn that this is not your life to have._ "What was she thinking?"

"She looked good in it,"  The other one, the lipstick brunette, said, and then shrugs in response to the glare from her friend.  "Come on."  She sticks her lipstick back into her clutch and moves to the door, clicking her heels impatiently.  "You can sulk by the bar just as well as you can in here."

"Yeah, well."  The blonde ( _Maggie?  Maddie?  Addie?_ ) flicked the faucet off and followed her.  "I slept with him, too, but he didn't give me a job."

She stays in the bathroom for a long moment, long enough that surely Tony must be wondering where she had gone to.  It's a new low to be hiding in the bathroom like she was in middle school again, hugging her arms to her chest and trying to calm herself down, tell herself that everything would be fine, but suddenly the eyes that had been following her all evening were no longer complimentary but accusing.  

 _After everything,_ she thought, digging her nails into the skin around the elbows,  _after all those years at school and the days interning and the nights where you thought you would never get anywhere, the months you spent parroting out lines like they wanted you to and talking with_ yes sir  _and_ no sir  _and a sunny smile always on your face, you finally made it to someplace that you can be proud of and you screwed it up because of him.  For him.  Is Tony really worth losing what you've worked so hard to earn?_

For the first time, she wishes she was a man.  Men don't get or lose a job depending on the length of their skirt, or how well they look in it.  Men don't have to patiently explain to lesser men that their job is crucial to the company, and does not involve being called sweetheart or used as a coffee boy.  If she was a man, this wouldn't be an issue.

 _It's not a issue,_ she promises herself, sliding the lock open and stepping out into the harsh lighting, ignoring the startled look the lone other woman at the sink gives her.    _Not anymore._

 

 

Tony's entirely happy about the way the night went, which makes everything worse.  He's still on date mode, too, pulling out her chair when she goes to sit at his kitchen counter and pouring her a glass of wine and offering to cook her something, anything, whatever she wanted, babbling on about the people he met and inventions he thought of during the more boring speakers and how good she looked in her dress, still, a mile a minute, and the comments make her want to peel her own skin off and change into something new because as much as she wants this ( _easy, like breathing, like knowing the words to a song you hadn't heard in years and knowing all the answers to every question you're ever going to be asked_ ), she wants something else even more. 

"You should be my date like, every time."  He had thrown off his suit and was now standing in a t-shirt and dress pants, rummaging through his cupboards to find the pan he needed.  "Seriously, most fun I've ever had at one of those things, and we were like the best power couple in the room even though we weren't even a couple!"

He laughs, wild, but not a bad wild because this time he is not drunk, and Pepper hates this, hates him, hates herself, hates those girls, because- "We can't do this again."  He pauses right in the middle of cracking an egg and the yolk drips over his hand, spilling down over the countertop.  "I can't be that girl."

"What girl?"

She has thrown him so far off balance that he could not even think of a joke.

"The girl that people think is sleeping with her boss in order to get ahead."  For a moment his expression clears and he shakes the egg off his hand, like this is one of the times where she worries and he assures her that everything is fine and between the two of them, it ends up being alright.  Pepper cuts him off before it can start.  "The one who kept a job for months when everyone else was only able to stay a week and showed up to a gala in a dress her boss bought her so now everyone thinks there's only one reason why he would keep her around."  His expression shutters, and Pepper is just grateful that he was not going to try and wave this away.  "I've worked too hard for that to happen to me now."

She wonders if it feels like she's assigning blame, which is the last thing that she wanted to do.  It had been a nice night, but sometimes, things that aren't anyone's fault get in the way.  Sometimes its just life rearing its ugly head and reminding you where you belong.

"No one thinks that."  Tony says, desperate, trying to fix it.  Pepper just traces the rim of her wine glass with her finger instead of looking at him.  "No one that knows you could ever think that."

"But they do, Tony."  She feels ridiculous, sitting here in this fancy dress she was never going to be able to wear again, like a little girl playing dress up in someone else's clothes.  "And I can't do that to myself.  not even for you."

He nods, once, twice, and then shoves the pan back into the sink, egg and all.  "I get that."  Tony looks angry, but Pepper can't tell who with.  "I just wish we didn't have to care about everyone else."

Maybe he was angry at everyone.  Or maybe just her.  It didn't matter- nothing changes.  "Me too, Tony."  She runs her hand over the fabric of the skirt one last time, imagining it packed into the back of her closet, something that she would take out on bad nights and hold and remember what it was like to be one of Tony's girls for a moment.  "Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on Instagram @olive.writes.fanfic


End file.
